Deadliest Ficitonal Warriors
by ixJosephxi
Summary: This is a hopefully continuous work in progress, latest chapter being Sub Zero vs Cervantes (Soul Calibur). Open to suggestions and I will add on more battles if I get constructive responses and more ideas! Rated M just to be safe because of violence and possible language in the future, probably could've been rated T but oh well. Please enjoy and write back if you feel the need!
1. Mewtwo vs Darth Vader

Disclamer: I don't own Pokemon nor Star Wars. If I did I would have so much more time on my hands... but in case you are unfamiliar with the characters Mewtwo is a genetically enhanced Pokemon from the series of the same name, while Darth Vader is a major villain within the Star Wars franchise. So without further ado, please enjoy!

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Mewtwo vs. Darth Vader

"Behold my power! I am the most powerful Pokémon in the world! Even more powerful than Mew…" Mewtwo stood in the crater of destruction on what remained of Cinnabar Island, clenching his three fingered hands in rage and confusion. "But even though I know my power, I am no closer to knowing my true purpose…"

Just as the bipedal Pokémon pondered aloud, an earsplitting screech passed in the sky above, emanating from a space ship coming to land on the small island. The white landing craft touched down on the cliff on the edge of the island, under Mewtwo's ever-watching eye. A ramp extended from under the carriage of the ship, smoke billowing around the dark figure emerging from the darkness. The caped man walked down the ramp and walked toward Mewtwo, his respirator attached to his ebony helmet cycling oxygen in an ominous breathing sound.

"You wish to know your destiny, and it belongs with me on the path of the dark side." The man said in a deep monotone, stepping closer to Mewtwo with every word.

"Who… are you? I hope for your sake you are not among the foolish humans who wished to imprison me." Mewtwo returned, stepping back in caution of the tall dark man.

"I am Lord Vader," the man said, reaching his hand out to the Pokémon. "And you must join me and together we will rule the galaxy hand in hand as master and apprentice."

"Apprentice?" Mewtwo angrily questioned, eyes glowing a light blue in psychic rage. "I will not share a throne of power under the tutelage of a puny human!" Mewtwo flung Vader using his psychic power, bringing him to the ground at the edge of the cliff near his ship.

Vader stopped himself on one knee, glaring up at his opponent in the middle of the once prosperous island. "So be it…" the dark lord calmly stated, drawing his lightsaber and igniting the red blade for combat. Darth Vader conjured the Force to grasp nearby rubble, sending chunks of concrete and rebar hurdling toward the purple clone while keeping his lightsaber close in defense position.

The debris collided with Mewtwo, bruising and gashing its body before the Pokémon could summon a psychic barrier, stopping the rubble on impact. Mewtwo once again called upon his psychic powers to send the remaining rubble back at Darth Vader followed up by a summoning of swift, an attack shooting star-like rays at his opponent. The Sith Lord deflected the rubble with a combination of his lightsaber parries and the Force, but was struck by the unexpected swift attack which struck him along the length of his bicep. Vader shrugged off his now exposed wires on his arm, countering the cloned abomination with a lightsaber throw and walking towards his opponent in the center of the crater.

Mewtwo evaded the attack by mustering illusive copies of itself in a double team, making it seem as if there were two of itself, although the copy instantly dissipated when the lightsaber passed through it and came back to the hand of the approaching Vader.

"Your skills are admirable, young Mewtwo, but you are no match for the power of the dark side!" Vader bellowed, swinging his lightsaber in a hacking motion upon reaching the Pokémon.

"My skill is far superior yours, pitiful human." Mewtwo retorted, avoiding the saber and countering with a powerful psycho cut attack, focusing his psychic powers into a bladed strike and cleaving off Vader's left hand. Vader recoiled in pain, his cybernetic stub sparking uncontrollably, but jumped back into the fray and managed to sear Mewtwo's shoulder before the Pokémon retreated into the sky.

"You can't run from your destiny, Mewtwo!" Darth Vader called out, out of reach to attack the Pokémon. "It is not too late for you to join the dark side. Give into your hatred and realize your true potential."

"It is not the same between you and I, you gallivant freely as a being born into this world while I, an abomination, was created. I do not share your past, so we cannot exist together in our futures." Mewtwo monologued, cupping his hands together to create a ball of darkness and hurling it at his foe. As the first shadow ball missed, Mewtwo continued to summon and throw the energy spheres only to be dodged or deflected by Darth Vader's crimson lightsaber.

"Enough!" Vader shouted, reaching out his hand and choked the levitating Pokémon via the Force. Mewtwo struggled against the Force choke, clawing his hands at his own neck to pry the invisible hands away strangling him. "Now you will pay for your incompetence," the Sith Lord declared, squeezing his hand into a fist about to finish his legendary adversary. Feeling that the end was near, Mewtwo calmed his conscience and focused on a way to escape the deadly hold of the dark man.

Not two seconds had passed before Mewtwo opened his glowing blue eyes and, utilizing his psychic powers, tore Vader's helmet off of his head and flung it into the ocean. Vader's eyes opened wide on his scarred, pale face as he struggled to breathe without his respirator, backing away and breaking off the Force choke.

"Humans may have created me, but they will never enslave me!" Mewtwo roared, summoning one more shadow ball and hurling it at his ebony foe. The ball collided with Vader's chest plate, tearing apart the cybernetics and leaving a gaping crater in the Sith Lord's torso. Vader fell, heart no longer supported by his robotic counterparts nor beating at all, as Mewtwo stood victoriously over the lifeless body.

"I will not follow you humans," Mewtwo said, looking into the night sky before raising himself off of the ground and speeding into the horizon. "I stand alone…"

Winner:

Mewtwo


	2. Altair vs Damocles

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed nor Ryse, nor do I own their creators. Altair is a master assassin from the first game in the Assassin's Creed franchise originating from the Middle East during the Third Crusade, while Damocles, although more commonly known as Marius Titus, is from the game Ryse: Son of Rome and clearly comes from the era of the Roman Empire, specifically during the rule of Emperor Nero. For clarification, the first and last scene in this story are large references to Abstergo, a fictional company in the Assassin's Creed universe, specifically Abstergo Entertainment which was highlighted in Assassin's Creed IV but the facts on the company are completely irrelevant so if you want you can completely skip that section and start about five paragraphs in. So without further ado, please enjoy!

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"Straight from Oliver!" the brown-haired assistant cheerily told the research analyst, handing him a folder of documents. "Some sort of high end stuff from our major shareholders, so you're going to have to put a hold on the Sample 17 Project for a second and take this one for the afternoon."

The employee took the folder and flipped through the papers on the interior, a perplexed look forming on his face. "Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad? I thought we trashed that program? And who is this Titus? Roman Empire… They don't even overlap in time."

"I don't ask questions, it just rolls downhill, sorry! I'll just need the results on that packet by the end of the day!" the assistant smiled and walked away with almost a hop in her step. The research analyst watched the woman's hips sway as she departed the office, but then broke his gaze to examine the contents of the folders, pulling out profile sheets and images, nothing he hadn't seen before. Altaïr's photos were of an Arabian man with a scar along the left side of his face, wrapped in a haunting white hooded cloak, resembling an eagle-like figure. The other man, however, he had not seen. A Roman centurion by the looks of his armor, a few pictures of the man looked like a respected commander in his legion, although in others the man wore darker, more tattered and demon-like armor with a demonic mask covering the top half of his face within his helmet.

'Just another bozo from history class,' the research analyst thought to himself, searching through the rest of the folder. More biography reports, more pictures, and finally a USB drive with a sticky note attached.

"Run simulation, record results -R" the sticky note read, simple enough it seemed. So the man inserted the small device into his Abstergo computer, which prompted a software program he hadn't seen before with simply the words "Start Simulation" in a box on top of a black background. The employee casually slung his mouse cursor to the start simulation button and selected it, watching as the animus mainframe booted up, a blue and white matrix swirling around a suddenly forming city reminiscent of Rome. People began to appear, running in fear as flames rose from the great city, hordes of barbarians fighting against red centurions closing in on the center palace of the city.

"Nero! Where is Nero?" Marius Titus exclaimed, swinging his sword into the gut of the nearest barbarian warrior.

"Still in the palace, Commander!" another Roman soldier yelled from behind, readying a pilum to throw into the massive crowd ahead of them. Marius looked up to the palace in time to see Emperor Nero standing on a balcony high above the battle the Roman soldiers were fighting.

"Why have you abandoned me?!" Nero shouted at the soldiers below. "I command you to defend your Emperor!"

"Hold the line," Marius told the highest ranking soldier near him and headed into the palace to find the Emperor. Marius was determined to kill the bastard before the barbarians ever got to lay a finger on him.

"You have nowhere to run, now share your secrets with me," the hooded assassin said, cradling the once lively emperor to the ground with a bleeding gash in his neck.

"You… you… you aren't Damocles… I cannot die by your hands, this isn't how it was supposed to end…" Nero pleaded, grasping his assassin by his cowl and bringing him close. Nero stared into the distance, eyes focusing on the entrance to the palace. "He's here…" Nero pointed at the door of the palace before letting loose his last breath, silently signaling the entrance of the Roman commander.

Marius slid into the palace to find his dead emperor laying in the arms of a man in a white hooded robe.

"No! You filthy stinking dog! That wasn't your wrong to right!" Marius yelled, drawing his gladius and charging the assassin.

He threw his shielded arm into Altaïr, but his blow was not answered as the strike only swung through the air with the assassin ducking below the rectangular shield and punching the centurion in his gut. Titus' plate armor shielded the blow, however the armor was not prepared for Altaïr's hidden blade which jutted out from his wrist and stuck out from where his ring finger should have been. Blood seeped from between the segmented plates in Marius's armor, but that didn't stop him from delivering a quick knee to Altaïr's face and sending the assassin back.

Without missing a beat, Altaïr recoiled and threw two throwing knives toward the Roman officer. Marius pulled up his massive shield and allowed the knives to be stuck into his wood and leather defense, readying his pilum over his shoulder and then launching it toward the master assassin. The slow javelin, however, was easy for Altaïr to dodge as he simply ducked under the flying spear, drawing his dagger from the sheath on his back.

"You think you can kill me with that little knife?" Marius mocked, staying behind his massive shield.

"You would be surprised what one can do with a knife like this, but there is always an alternative," Altaïr retorted before charging the centurion and swinging his knife with a wide side-strike. The dagger, however, also stuck into the wooden shield and allowed Marius to rip the shield to the side, twisting the dagger out of Altaïr's hand. While Altaïr was distracted by his sudden disarmament, Marius delivered a quick strike with his gladius to the assassin's left thigh, tearing a wound across the entire width of the man's leg.

Altaïr yelled in pain, but quickly drew his longsword to deflect the next incoming blow from the centurion's gladius. The sword rattled in the Roman's hands, vibrating from the impact with the assassin's sturdier metal. Altaïr took advantage of this brief break in his defense to grab Marius' arm and with a quick smack by the hilt of his sword broke the man's forearm.

"Ah!" Marius recoiled, dropping his sword onto the palace floor but keeping his shield close at hand. Altaïr swung his sword relentlessly onto the soldier's almighty shield. Marius kept turtling behind his defense, looking frantically for a way to escape the mayhem, almost ready to accept his fate…

Almost.

Marius reached out and grabbed his sword on the ground, his fist balling, seemingly indenting the sword's own hilt to mold to his fingers. Altaïr, realizing he would not get through the damned shield by bashing away at it, used his foot and tore the shield away from Marius's body but suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The master assassin looked down and saw half of the gladius protruding from just below his ribcage, presumably up into his chest cavity.

The world began to spin faster and faster around him, the wintry cold abyss gripping him, strangling his heart to forty beats per minute, twenty, ten, zero. The assassin fell to the ground grasping his wound, his only thoughts as he passed from this world was of Maria and his unborn son, Darim, until all thought was lost into the void and Altaïr Ibn La Ahad was no more.

Marius stood victoriously, grasping his side as the blood continued to flow from beneath the plate armor and thrusting his shield in the air in triumph.

The research analyst watched as the world disintegrated into a blank white canvas again, the magical world of the Animus resorting to the buildingless, human-free digital abyss on his computer screen. A simple message typed itself across the analyst's screen; "Thank you for your time, we expect your thorough report immediately."

Shaking his head, the analyst rewound the simulation and began the long and loathsome paperwork that he knew was bound to follow.

Winner:

Marius Titus


	3. Riddler vs Rorschach

For the record I do not own DC comics. I usually don't do within-industry battles like this, but I don't think that this matchup has ever been considered and I love both characters so I couldn't resist taking it upon myself to write this battle. For background info, the Riddler is a villain, typically associated with Batman (if you need any reference, my opinion is look at the Jim Carrey portrayal in Batman Forever) and Rorschach is a masked hero/vigilante from the comic series Watchmen. Please enjoy and reply if you feel so inclined!

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"You may as well turn back now Rorschach, my puzzles are way too advanced for a non-intellectual such as yourself." The loudspeakers called through the twilight lit shipping yard, echoing and bouncing off of the steel cargo containers stacked on the concrete docks.

The masked vigilante strafed through the abandoned shipping yard, his black and white mask constantly shifting contorted shaped ink blots. Rorschach knew he wasn't supposed to be in Gotham, but his brand of justice knew no borders. All he knew that there were too many men loose in this crime ridden city. This city was already afraid of him. He had seen its true face. The accumulated murder and corruption was drowning the inhabitants, and he knew the only solution was to wipe the city clean…

Starting with the Riddler.

Rorschach's trench coat waved slightly in the ocean breeze, his hand went up to hold his fedora firmly atop his head. He had to find this criminal and bring him to justice, preferably dead.

"Well as long as you are here I suppose we could have a little fun… Riddle me this Rorschach, what gets dirtier as it cleans, speaks without a face, and is ugly inside and out?"

Rorschach kept walking through the maze of steel crates, uninterested in the mindless games the Riddler had to offer. With his grappling gun at the ready, he silently tracked the wires from the speakers, leading the anti-hero to a warehouse.

"Still perplexed? You may be even duller than you look… oh well, I presume you would have never gotten the answer anyway. It's no fun if you don't play the game though!" The loudspeakers called out from every direction, but Rorschach knew that the origin of the voice lurked behind the door of the abandoned warehouse.

"Well I don't see how that is going to get you any closer to the answer Mr. Kovacs. I mean what are you going to do? You arrest me? A man with a much higher intellect than you? Ha! How hilariously absurd. Well go on now Mr. Kovacs. Open the door."

As the Riddler jeered, Rorschach circumnavigated the building trying to find a decent entering point, finding a broken window to squeeze into. The majority of the warehouse was empty, save for a half dozen computer monitors in the center of the room surrounding a cushioned chair fashioned to look like a throne. A lanky human sat in the throne, already facing the stealthy hero, and sporting a long brass cane.

"Riddle me this, riddle me that, who's afraid of a washed up joke in a mask?" The Riddler queried as he lifted his head, revealing his sinister eyes beneath the green bowler hat. His green tuxedo hugged his body tightly as the Riddler rose to his feet, swinging his metallic cane joyfully and holding a small canvas sack slung over his shoulder.

"You die today Edward Nigma!" Rorschach shouted in a gruff voice, pointing a solitary finger towards the man in green.

"Ah, spoken like a true Neanderthal, well I guess we'll just have to cure your ignorance. For you, I prescribe one dose of…" the Riddler dug into the canvas sack and pulled out a small bird shaped ball which began flapping its useless wings as the Riddler twisted its bulbous neck and hurled it at the masked vigilante.

Rorschach caught the mechanical bird with his lightning quick reflexes and hurled the projectile back at the Riddler, the device detonating in a fiery explosion mere yards from the green villain.

"Your brawn is quite impressive, but do you have the brains to compliment that?" The Riddler joked as he pulled out ceramic question marks from within his jacket, also throwing them at the intruder, exploding at his feet. Rorschach somersaulted out of the way, looking for an escape route to re-evaluate his situation against this felon. He hated retreating from his perfect opportunity, but even Rorschach knew that he was vastly outmatched at the moment.

Rorschach leaped back through the window he crept into, shattering the glass all over the wet concrete ground and his trench coat. Seeing an open shipping crate, he ducked into it and shone his flashlight to illuminate the interior before the Riddler had a chance to catch him. A glint of metal caught his eye and Rorschach's face turned into a grisly smile under his demonic mask.

"Riddle me this Rorschach!" the Riddler shouted, walking gleefully out of his warehouse and twirling his cane. "What two sides of you are about to be switched?" After skipping in silence through the giant steel containers the Riddler became increasingly impatient, banging his cane on the crates and sending echoes throughout the shipping yard.

"Are you still out there Mr. Kovacs? All I want to do is play!" Riddler shrieked, now angrily running from crate to crate before seeing one large container with its door ajar. "Ah there you are, now to the answer of the riddle… any guesses Rorschach?"

"Come in and you're dead Riddler." Rorschach bluntly threatened from the dark abyss of the container.

"Judges?" Riddler mockingly questioned. "Wrong! I'm sorry, thanks for playing, but your insides will soon be on your outside!" he horridly responded, grabbing the crate door with his hooked cane and swinging it wide open.

Instead of finding Rorschach, however, only a burst of flame answered the door as the vigilante sprayed a can of hairspray behind a lighter in the direction of the criminal. Riddler tumbled backwards, suffering burns along the left side of his face and his shoulder singed through his green suit jacket. Before the Riddler was able to recover, Rorschach ran and slid to the criminal's feet and fired his grappling gun into his chest, shattering the Riddler's sternum and sending him broken to the ground.

"Alright, you can arrest me, bring me to Arkham! I need help you know!" Riddler said, coughing up his own blood and reaching for his cane.

"Men get arrested," Rorschach said, reaching from within his coat to grab a meat cleaver he grabbed from the cargo container. "Dogs get put down." Rorschach raised his hand with the meat cleaver, and brought it down with the intention to kill the man on the ground.

The Riddler, however, was not ready to die as he brought up his cane and blocked the blade. He then used the other end of the cane to smack Rorschach's knee with a satisfying _crunch_, sending the vigilante to the ground in pain and throwing the cleaver far away from himself.

"You failed to, ah!" The Riddler grunted as he forced himself to his feet. "You failed to answer my original riddle. And your time just ran out. I asked what gets dirtier as it cleans, speaks without a face, and is ugly inside and out. And the answer?" The Riddler readied his cane as a baseball bat, the deadly, heavy question mark shaped top casting an eerie moonlit shadow on Rorschach's ink blotted mask. "You." The Riddler declared, bringing his staff down and impaling the masked man's skull, blood squirting out and staining the black and white mask a moist crimson.

Riddler let out a ragged gasp as he pulled his cane out from the man's skull so he may rest on it, holding his shattered sternum and coughed up a little more blood. He would live to confound the city of Gotham another day. Looking up, Edward Nigma could see the faint light of the bat signal against the cloudy night sky and took it as his initiative to go back into hiding, bringing the body of the dead hero back with him in case he needed another cadaver for his next plot of terror.

Winner:

Riddler


	4. Firemen vs Thought Police

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the books 1984 or Fahrenheit 451. The Thought Police are a brutal police force from the novel 1984 employed by a tyrannical government body labeled "Big Brother" whose main goal is to inhibit all thought of uprising. The Firemen are, similarly, a government run faction from the novel Fahrenheit 451 where their function is to burn all books so that free thought cannot flow through the civilians to inhibit uprising. I actually wrote this as an assignment for a high school class a couple years back but regardless, please enjoy!

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Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the books 1984 or Fahrenheit 451. The Thought Police are a brutal police force from the novel 1984 employed by a tyrannical government body labeled "Big Brother" whose main goal is to inhibit all thought of uprising. The Firemen are, similarly, a government run faction from the novel Fahrenheit 451 where their function is to burn all books so that free thought cannot flow through the civilians to inhibit uprising. I actually wrote this as an assignment for a high school class a couple years back but regardless, please enjoy!

Twain. Hemmingway. Orwell. The flapping pigeon-paged books fluttered around the firemen like smoldering feathers of a phoenix, yet doomed to never rise again. The raw odor of burnt parchment and kerosene seemed to fuel the pyrotechnicians in their malevolent ritual.

"Shove a marshmallow on this Shakespeare here, Beatty!" A fireman said, tossing an already aflame book at the captain. Beatty silently laughed as he let the book warm his gloved hand, slowly withering away into glowing butterfly-like ashes.

A lone book, however, caught the eye of the fire captain, unscorched in a pile of flames. Beatty reached out and snagged the piece of literature, slowly turning it in his hands. The book was heavy and black, lacking any text on either face. Opening the heavy cover, Beatty discovered a title unknown even to the experienced captain.

The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism by Emmanuel Goldstein.

The title was crudely typed onto the inside of the volume, giving Beatty the impression that this was not one of the classic books he was to burn. Unsure if he had the piece of literature in his personal collection, Beatty tucked the worn book within his trench coat.

The building didn't fall until the firemen exited the door, the eight-legged mechanical hound on their heels. The front door belched a deadly mixture of smoke and ash as the roof collapsed in on itself, extinguishing most of the still burning novels within. Applause and jeering remarks alike rose from the growing crowd as the fires within the crumbling house died down, the last traces of classic wisdom rising with the smoke into the night sky.

Satisfied at a job well done, the firemen climbed back into their Salamander car and headed for the fire station. Unbeknownst to them, however, a lone spectator refused to cheer, instead keeping his beady eyes on the fire captain holding his trench coat close to his body.

"He took the bait," the man said into a handheld device. The man waited for a retort before answering, "Yes sir. Beatty will be cured shortly… Ignorance is Strength, long live Big Brother."

The Salamander bumped along the road carrying its four human passengers and the hound. The firemen inside all poked jokes at each other, sharing stories of books they burned or old women they had to set alight or the ferocity of the hound, not quite alive yet not remotely close to death laying in hibernation at their feet. Suddenly, the Salamander screeched to a halt, displacing a few of the firemen from their seats.

"What the hell's going on?" Beatty grunted, signaling one of the other firemen to check the front of the fire truck. The second that the man opened the door to the front of the cab, however, a thick truncheon flew through the doorway and scattered the fireman's teeth across the interior of the Salamander. Before the other firemen could react, the man behind the bludgeon stepped into the carrying compartment of the truck and jammed his weapon into the eye socket of the downed man.

Two of the remaining firemen stood motionless, eyes fixated on their downed comrade, his head now a gushing fountain of blood pooling around their feet. Beatty, however, did not hesitate and grabbed his trusty axe, plunging the edged head into the man's collarbone, penetrating all the way into the top of his heart. By this point, the Salamander had begun to reek of death, the blood quickly covering the floor in a viscous crimson layer of liquid.

"Out of the truck!" Beatty barked, throwing one of the firemen face first onto the street as the other man pulled the mechanical hound out while suppressing the puke in his throat.

The three men gathered themselves outside of the back of the fire truck, the mechanical hound still asleep on the cold asphalt as cars whizzed past them at upwards of ninety miles an hour. Beatty reached down to the beast at his feet and activated its switch, the dog's devilish green eyes glowing in the night as the gears within meshed and whirred to life. The hound gave an eerie howl before running off into a building, searching for any assailants to inject with its venom.

"Does he have a trail?" one of the firemen asked, gripping his flamethrower firmly and pointing the weapon in the direction of the hound. Instead of answering, Beatty only boldly followed in the footsteps of the mechanical creature into the house.

The boards creaked under the fireman's hefty gear, every fall of his rubber boots squeaking with a new pitch as he passed from room to room, one fellow fireman behind him trying to locate their stalking predator. The two men cautiously entered the parlor, still mysteriously left on and simulating a casual dinner meal, the actors present and staring at an empty spot on the floor waiting for their cue.

"I have no desire to play God here," Beatty scoffed, pulling his companion back into reality. The house, however, remained eerily silent. Not even the creaking footsteps of the hound could be heard in the household. The only sound came from the humming emanating from the parlor's projector walls. The silent shuffling of feet from the parlor actors tickled the back of Beatty's neck, giving him the feeling that all was too quiet for such a night.

A piercing scream rang out from outside the house, abruptly silenced and replaced by the sounds of a drowning man. Beatty and his fellow firefighter ran outside, finding the man they left to guard the Salamander laying on the ground, gurgling in his own blood. Large holes had seemingly been drilled into the man's cheeks and throat, with various small bite marks dotting his face. A small lump in the man's chest moved violently, however, even though the man was clearly deceased. Beatty leaned in to get a closer look at the man's blackened chest, when suddenly a rat burst through the dead man's flesh, its snout matted with wet blood and tissue still between its grotesque teeth.

Beatty recoiled back and drew his flamethrower, dousing both the man and animal with more than a gallon of kerosene before setting the body alight. As the flesh popped and sizzled, a dozen charred rats ran squealing out of the body through various exits and entrances of the body, only to die yards from what had once been their feast.

"Who has the mind to do such a thing?!" screamed the other fireman, raking his fingers through his soot-soaked hair. "Are these people insane?!" Before Beatty could answer, however, three men clad in black ran out from a house adjacent to the one they had previously searched and landed a blow to Beatty's helmet, knocking him to the ground in a daze. Beatty tried to rise, but found the world spinning around him, his eyes disagreeing with his sense of balance and forcing him to the ground again. Attempting to twist his head to see his partner, Beatty saw that his comrade managed to throw one of the assailants to the ground before gripping his flamethrower and setting another attacker aflame.

The flaming man fell writhing in pain and screaming at the top of his lungs just two feet away from the fire captain, only increasing the intensity of Beatty's migraine. The flames singed Beatty's eyebrows off before he could muster enough strength to roll away and rise to his knees. Beatty rolled his eyes around in his head enough to gain back his full conscience before looking up to see that his fellow fireman was know being held on the ground, flamethrower just out of reach as he was thrashed by two of the men clad in black.

Beatty staggered to his feet, his head feeling as if a dagger had been stabbed into his temple. He shook off the pain and looked up, only to see his comrade fall limp as a fist smashed into the side of his face, undoubtedly fracturing the skull and shattering the man's cheek bone. Beatty rose and grasped his flamethrower with his good hand, pulling the trigger to douse the closest man in black with his kerosene and igniting it, instantly killing the man and sending him falling into the arms of his partner who had just given up thrashing the fireman.

"Don't take another step," Beatty warned, aiming his flamethrower at the man clothed in all black. "I don't think you'll like what will happen if I have to report a dead man to the authorities."

"You think too much," the man retorted, reaffirming his grip on his truncheon in hand. "All men like you will realize that you cannot outrun Big Brother! For we will not simply destroy you… we will break you! You think you are happy in this world of entertainment and flattery, yet you do not understand true love. You cannot love while you still think. You will love Big Brother!"

Beatty loosened his clutch on his flamethrower, the corner of his mouth turning upward in a half grin. The fire captain began chuckling, laughing hysterically, almost manically, until spitting out his final words. "There are always men like you. Men that think they can change the world with one fell swoop. But there's always a solution to men like you," Beatty grinned as the man's perplexed look was replaced by one of raw fear, feeling the steel clawed feet of the mechanical hound digging into his back. The hound's mouth opened wide, revealing a long, straw-thick needle, and stabbed the man in the back of the neck. As the morphine took its course, the man ceased to struggle against the might of the hound on his back and simply collapsed, never to rise again.

"Don't mess with the Happiness Boys," Beatty grinned, leaning close to whisper into the man's unconscious ear and watching the hound retract the needle and once again doze off into a slumber. "You might just get yourself burned."

Beatty stepped back and admired the work of the bloodthirsty hound. Suddenly remembering the treasure he had recovered from the house just half an hour ago, Beatty pulled the book out of his jacket and skimmed through the pages.

"Useless garbage…" Beatty scoffed, not finding anything that really stood out to him. He bent down and tucked the book within the dead man's black coat. "Reporting an ambush on crew number 451," the fire captain relayed into his walkie-talkie to the fire station. "They had at least one book on them." He waited. "Yes sir, I'll be ready to train the recruits in the morning. What the hell kind of name is Guy anyhow? No matter, they're all dispensable. All of us are…"


	5. Merle Dixon vs A

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Pretty Little Liars or The Walking Dead (Oh but if I did...) "A" is a mysterious character from the book series Pretty Little Liars and also adapted into the television show of the same name who takes it upon herself to terrorize the population of Rosewood, targeting women and their friend who had gone missing using covert operations and a band of loyal subjects to do her bidding. Although in the shows it is not shown who the real A is, it is this iteration of the character that I am basing this battle on. Merle Dixon is from the television series The Walking Dead, as he was never a part of the original comic series of the same name. Merle was a Georgian ex-military and subsequently an ex-drug dealer before the zombie apocalypse hit where he had to amputate his own hand and fend for himself against the zombie hordes. Without further ado, please enjoy!

* * *

"You can run from your past, but I know EVERYTHING –A" Read the crudely written note nailed on the wooden post reading "Rosewood Population 7988." A hand reached up and ripped the paper off of the sign. Merle Dixon smiled as he examined the warning written in bright red lipstick. He crumpled the note and tossed it onto the paved road, bouncing to a stop near a limp body of a girl, blood oozing out of a hole placed in the middle of her forehead. Merle looked at his work around him, and upon seeing no creatures, alive or undead, he continued on into this city of Rosewood to scavenge for supplies.

Crows flew overhead, squawking at the one handed man touring the residential streets, peering from house to house, careful not to wake any undead walkers that might alert the horde undoubtedly lurking in a nearby neighborhood.

Suddenly, a car engine revved and alerted the zombie slayer. Merle looked ahead in the road and saw a red sedan barreling down the road toward him. Raising his M4A1, Merle fired off a three round burst at the oncoming vehicle before rolling out of the way onto an overgrown lawn. Merle shot another couple rounds at the retreating vehicle, popping both of the back tires. The car swerved, skidding on the black pavement and smashed into a tree. A grin cracked across Merle's dry face as the driver door jammed open and a pair of black-heeled boots stepped out, steadying themselves on the unkempt grass. A woman in a bright red jacket staggered out of the car, hood pulled over seemingly blond hair and a heavily make-up covered face. Merle gently laid his assault rifle on the ground, walking with his handless arm outstretched in a hugging manner, keeping his good hand behind his back on his M1911 pistol.

"C'mere sweet tits," Merle coaxed, advancing toward the woman in red. "Lets kiss and make up, maybe give good ol' Merle a peek under that coat of yours." The red-coated girl reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a revolver and whipping it in the direction of the zombie slayer. Merle yanked his pistol out as well, but failed to pull the trigger first and a round found its place in his thigh. The woman ran into a nearby house, leaving Merle in the middle of the street on a knee.

"This ain't over bitch!" Merle screamed, tearing off one of his shirtsleeves and tying it around his leg to hinder the bleeding. He looked around, seeing a couple walkers hobbling over to feast on the noisy meal created by the confrontation. Merle hoisted himself off of the ground and limped over to the house the woman had run into, holding his pistol ready in front of him.

The door flung off of its hinges as Merle rammed into it with his shoulder, the doorframe splintering onto the hard wood floor of the house. The interior was dark, the curtain-covered windows casting the only light in eerie formations across the length of the pillaged house.

"Come on out sweetie, I ain't gonna hurt ya," Merle's scratchy voice pierced through the darkness. Suddenly the curtains exploded in movement and the shadowy figure sprinted toward the stairs. Merle shot his pistol twice, one of the shots impacting the fleeing woman and causing her to stumble, but not lose her footing as she finished the trek up the stairs and into another chamber. Merle grinned once more and followed up the stairs, tracking his prey by the blood trail left behind from the bullet wound.

Merle navigated his way around the upstairs section of the house, until the blood trail ended abruptly in the middle of a dark sauna-like shower room. Confused, Merle bent down to look for any other traces when suddenly the glass door slid closed behind him and steam began to pour out of the nozzles on the walls, slowly suffocating Dixon. Merle pulled up his pistol at the glass doorway and fired, quickly shattering the glass and sending the red-coated menace running once more, but this time she didn't escape. Merle grabbed hold of the woman's foot as he tackled her to the ground, bringing his prosthetic knife hand down to stab her. Before he could get the kill, however, the woman pulled out a blowtorch and singed Merle in his gut. Merle howled in pain but backhanded the welding tool out of the woman's hand, and brought his knife to the bottom of her jaw. He thrusted upward, sending the knife through the soft part of her lower jaw and up through to her brain, instantly ending the woman's reign of terror.

Merle stood victoriously, giving a loud rebel yell and spit on his fallen opponent. He bent down to take a look behind the hood of his adversary.

"Why Hell, didn't expect that at all," Merle smiled, then walked out of the bathroom to escape the oncoming few undead creatures now entering the house to satisfy their hunger.

Winner:

Merle Dixon


	6. Rocky Balboa vs Bruce Lee

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the Rocky franchise's movies. Rocky Balboa is the main character in the movies which bare his name, Rocky. As an underdog in just about every boxing match he's ever fought in, Rocky is the embodiment of hard work and dedication as this Italian Stallion rose through the ranks of the boxing community to become the two-time heavyweight champion of the world. Bruce Lee was not a fictional character, but his name belong among legends as the inventor of the martial arts style of Jeet Kune Do and overall master martial artist who traces his ancestry back to China. So without further ado, please enjoy this battle of the brawlers!

* * *

Rocky jogged through the poring rain, massive hand over his head to keep him dry. The day before his next big boxing match, Rocky was in the best condition of his life, but he wasn't expecting what was about to happen.

As he passed an alley, an unconscious body fell into his path, causing the boxer to stop his routine. He shielded his eyes from the rain and looked down into the alley, spotting a shirtless, thin Asian man standing scratchless among a group of thugs.

"What's the big idea?" Rocky asked, taking off his hat, prepared to fight off this seemingly dangerous man.

"They attacked me," the man said definitively in a thick Chinese accent. The man started to bounce up and down on the tips of his toes, fists up as protection. "You going to attack me too?"

"You asked for it," Rocky answered cockily as he too ripped off his shirt, revealing his massive bulk of pure muscle. He planted his feet one in front of the other as he approached the Chinaman.

Rocky raised his hands in defense as the man sent a few kicks in his direction, deflecting off of Rocky's muscular forearms. Rocky tanked a few more blows before lashing out with a devastating left hook, connecting with the man's jaw. The Asian fumbled backwards, reaching his hand up into his mouth and retracted it, his fingers bloodied. He gave a quick shake of his head and leapt back into the fray.

Before his opponent made his move, Rocky lowered his shoulder and tackled the man into the brick wall behind him. He balled his colossal fists and brought them into the gut of the smaller man, connecting with his stomach and ribs in the close quarters. The man, however, remained strong as his abs of steel absorbed the force of the punches and he dealt a surprisingly overwhelming one-inch punch to Rocky's sternum.

Rocky was forced backwards and looked up in time to see the man flying at him in a side kick. He impacted Rocky's face, blackening Rocky's right eye and causing a small stream of blood to trickle down his face.

"So that's how you wanna do this, huh?" Rocky questioned in his heavy Philadelphian accent, taunting the man with a wave of his hand. The man accepted the invitation and began using open handed attacks at Rocky's core, forcing him back to the opposite wall. Rocky waited until he saw a weakness in the man's defenses, then thrust his knee into the man's gut. The man doubled over, but was forced back up as his face caught an uppercut from a bulky right hand.

The rain that had accumulated in the Chinaman's black hair was shaken off as he tried to shake off the force of the punch, still a bit dazed. Rocky sent the finishing blow aimed at the man's head, but the man caught the devastating fist with one hand and turned the wrist, snapping the bone. Rocky let out a roar of pain and hunched over to grasp his broken wrist. The man quickly grasped Rocky by the neck and twisted, sending the boxing champion into a worn out puddle of rain, lifeless.

The Asian man gave a slight bow and then walked out of the alley, rubbing his jaw, almost certain it was broken.

Winner:

Bruce Lee


	7. Finn the Human vs Bowser

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Adventure Time and certainly not Nintendo (I only wish in my wildest dreams I did...) Finn the Human, or simply just Finn, is from the animated television show Adventure Time where he is the last remaining human in the fictional land of Ooo, where fighting evil is the one thing he knows how to do well wielding his sword and his mouth of childlike insults. Bowser is perhaps the most recognizable villain of all video game lore, battling against the equally famous Mario since 1985. Bowser is a large turtle-like monstrosity with a spiky shell and a insatiable lust for princesses. So without further ado, please enjoy!

* * *

The tantalizing smell of bacon pancakes tickled the nose of the heroic 14-year old adventurer as the sun cracked over the horizon in the land of Ooo. Finn's body was lifted out of his sleeping bag and into his black sneakers, running to the lower floor of his tree house to gorge himself.

"Radical morning my dog-bro!" Finn exclaimed, cart wheeling into the kitchen. Jake, the yellow morphing dog, was hard at work cooking piles of the bacon pancakes.

Hey human-bro!" Jake called out, extending his arm to serve his companion a steaming hot plate of bacon pancakes drenched in syrup. Finn snatched his fork and began to shovel the mountain of pancakes into his mouth as Jake spoke again. "Your girlfriend Princess Bubblegum called earlier."

"She's not my girlfriend man," Finn rebuked, spitting his bacon pancakes all over the table. "But she wanted me? What did she want?'

"I dunno," Jake replied, abandoning his cooking to talk to his adoptive brother. "It didn't sound too good though. Something about a turtle and she got kidnapped and she almost burnt her cookies."

"What?!" Finn screamed, standing up and flipping the table in the process.

"Don't worry dude, I saved the cookies," Jake said, reaching around and grabbing the candy coated treats to stuff into his mouth. Finn ignored the dog, grabbing his green backpack and his sword before leaping out the door to save Princess Bubblegum.

"Come on princess, take a little dip with me!" Bowser's thundering voice echoed from the acid pit he was bathing in. The giant Koopa King rolled onto his spiky back and gazed at the trembling pink princess adrift on a floating barge. Sure, she wasn't any Princess Peach, but at least this one (Bubblegum was her name?) didn't have that crazed Italian man chasing after her. Caught in his lucid daydream, Bowser almost didn't notice the kid peeking over the edge of the volcano-like pit.

As soon as Finn knew the big turtle monster caught his gaze, the last human of Ooo jumped into the air and landed on the barge his crush of a princess was imprisoned in.

"Get away from my princess, boy!" Bowser bellowed, now standing only knee-deep in the green bubbling ooze.

"Princess Bubblegum didn't do anything to be yours, you big ugly butt!" Finn called out, pulling out his golden bladed sword to face the Koopa King.

"I am not a BUTT!" Bowser screamed, making large waves in the acid in his rage. "I am the largest, most evil final boss you will ever face puny human!" At that, Bowser charged the boy, rocking the barge and forcing Finn to leap onto the nearby land.

"Yes, a battle! I'm in my element!" Finn yelled, flipping in midair onto the back of the giant demonic turtle. His sword beat mercilessly on the giant turtle's shell, but to no avail. The shell didn't scratch, much less pierce, as Bowser flailed aimlessly to get the pest off of his back.

The lumbering giant slowly made his way onto the land, Finn still clinging to Bowser's back swinging away. Upon reaching solid ground, Bowser retreated into his shell, spinning rapidly and flinging the young boy off of him. Finn flew through the air before landing with a _thud_ on the rocky ground, bruising his usually flawless complexion. Tucking a few of his golden locks back into his hat, Finn balled his fists and jumped back into the fray, throwing his punches at the giant demon turtle. Bowser's head jerked back and forth from the forceful blows.

"Enough of this!" Bowser bellowed, reaching up and grabbing the boy attacking his face. Finn squirmed as the giant Koopa King grasped his sides, but the clawed hands didn't budge. Fire gurgled in the turtle's throat, casting an eerie glow from the beast's gaping maw. Finn's eyes widened and then soon after closed as Bowser spewed a fiery blast of fire and lava, engulfing the adventurer in flames.

Bowser smiled and dropped the smoldering mass onto the ground, turning back to his acid bath. Unknown to Bowser, however, the charred boy slowly staggered to his feet, grabbing his sword and brushing off the majority of the ash and soot to be able to see his target. In one last burst of strength, Finn leapt onto the back of the giant turtle's exposed neck and thrust his golden blade into his opponent's cranium. Bowser's eyes instantly shot open, and stayed open for the remaining few seconds of his life as the behemoth fell to the ground without a pulse.

"That was totally mathematical!" Finn cheered, running to high-five Princess Bubblegum before making the trek together back to the kingdom of Ooo.

Winner:

Finn the Human


	8. Luke Skywalker vs Harry Potter

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Star Wars or Harry Potter. If anyone wonders who either of these characters are then these are the only movies or books (respectively) that I 100% recommend watching or reading... enough said. But regardless, Luke Skywalker is a Jedi from the Star Wars series, wielding his lightsaber and an all-encompassing aura known as the Force. Harry Potter is a wizard from the book series of his own name, bringing to battle his trusty wand and an immense knowledge of the arts of magic. This was actually the first battle I've ever written so please excuse the lack of finesse (if any of these shorts have finesse) from this story, although I do keep this one close to my heart. There was so much debate over this that I ultimately had to choose a winner due to my favorite although for fans of both characters either could have equally gained victory... also full credit to this battle concept goes to ScrewAttack on YouTube for doing this battle already if you want a visual of what their battle ended up becoming. So without further ado, please enjoy!

* * *

Wandering through the deserts of Tatooine, Luke Skywalker was responding to a distress call left by Wedge Antilles. The blistering heat was baking him inside of his black Jedi robes, but he maintained himself through his training in the Force. Luke entered the nearest sign of civilization: a village of dome-shaped houses surrounded by nothing but sand. He could sense Wedge close, but life signs fading. He followed his senses to the nearest residence and opened the door, to his surprise to find a teen boy standing over the dying captain. The teenager's hair was black and unruly, covering a strangely shaped scar etched onto his brow above his round-framed glasses. The tall, scrawny boy held a stick in his hand, no longer than his forearm. Luke could sense something more than the force in the boy, something… stronger.

"Expelliarmus!" The boy shouted as he pointed the stick at Luke. Suddenly, he was flung back through the door, and landed with a thud on the arid sandy road. Recovering quickly, Luke pulled his lightsaber off of his belt, and extended its green blade. The boy exited the house, strange wand outstretched and with an odd light focused at the end.

"Who are you, kid?" Luke asked, poised to defend any attack thrown at him. Luke secretly tried to focus on the boy's mind, searching for any exploitable flaw, but oddly the boy's thoughts were too concentrated on loved ones to control his mind.

"I am Harry Potter," the boy said in an accent unknown to Luke, perhaps a hybrid of that from Kamino and Bespin. Harry closed his eyes hard and shook his head before peering at Luke in rage. "You're magic won't work on me sorcerer! Avada Kadavra!" At that, a stream of highly concentrated lightning-looking matter streamed from the stick in the direction of Luke. Luke countered with a quick summoning of force lightning, which met his opponent's half way between them. Luke could feel himself being overpowered, and see his lightning slowly recede toward him. He let his lightning fall and pulled up his saber, catching the strange magic with the blade. When the torrent stopped, Luke reached out with the force and began to choke Potter. He held the boy about a foot off the ground, reaching at his neck for air. Suddenly, Harry disappeared and Luke lost control of him. He looked left and right for signs of the kid, but he could not find him.

Closing his eyes, he attempted to find him through the Force. He could feel the buildings around him, the distant cry of the Tuskan Raiders, the small grains of sand brushing against his cheeks. And the boy. Covered in a mysterious cloak, he was not visible to the common eye, but Luke reached out his hand and threw the blanket off of his young adversary.

Just as soon as the veil was lifted, the boy shouted "Confundus!" catching Luke off-guard. Suddenly becoming dizzy, he could not concentrate and fell to one knee to try to regain his balance. Through the dark cloud in his mind, he heard the boy screech "Sectumsempra!" And suddenly Luke felt himself slashed across the front and back, soaking his robes in blood. Luke forced himself to stand and purged the confusion from his mind. Using the Force, he blocked out the pain from his wounds, and spotted the boy. He reached out his mind, searching for any possible defect to utilize with shatterpoint. And he found it: the boy's scar. Luke focused on the lightning bolt scar, and suddenly it split, leaving the boy's head flowing with blood. He sprawled on the ground, dropping his wand and grasping onto his head. Luke sped over to the boy's location and raised his saber to impale the young wizard, but the boy found the strength to shout the word "Reducto!" followed by a quick "Accio Firebolt!" Suddenly the lightsaber exploded in his hand and a broomstick flew from the sky, bluntly ramming Luke in the back. The boy climbed onto the stick and took to the blue sky.

Luke looked for the assailant, but was blinded by the two suns in the sky, and only caught glimpse of the boy after it was too late to counter-attack. The aerial attacker collided with Luke's right shoulder, and he fell to the ground. Luke rose once again, and pulled out his secret second lightsaber, extending the red blade to its length, half of that of his original saber. This time, he saw the boy, riding hard and fast with the intent of finishing what he had started. Luke side-stepped at the last second, and brought his lightsaber across the end of the broom, slicing off a good foot of the magical stick, along with the boy's wrists. They both crashed to the ground, sending Harry tumbling across the sands handless and blood streaming into his eyes, blinding him further. Luke stood over the screaming schoolboy, and brought his saber down into his chest, finishing his kill. Now feeling the full effects of the slashes, he sheathed his lightsaber and looked off into the stars wondering where his greatest match came from.

Winner: Luke Skywalker


	9. Sangheili vs Locusts

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Halo series or the Gears of War series. Sangheili (or Elites, as they are known by lesser nerds than myself...) are alien field commanders of a vast army known as the Covenant from the Halo series. The Elites are hulking 8 foot tall creatures who struck terror into the human race, pushing an interstellar human race out of every one of their territories back to our homeworld of Earth all in the name of their religious fervor. The Locust come from the game series of Gears of War, native to the subterranean world beneath the planet Sera in which humans inhabited in the future. These brutal warriors are lead by Theron Guards and fight to simply drive the humans and eventually the Lambent away from their homeworld and claim Sera solely to themselves. So without further ado, please enjoy!

* * *

Elites: XXXXX

Drones: XXXXX

Soon after landing on a seemingly abandoned planet, a scouting party of five Elites explore the streets of a human-like city. The lead Elite, a zealot, sending the two Elite minors to recon ahead while ordering their Spec-Ops Elite to activate his cloaking device and duck into an alley. The Zealot and Major stood close to one another, feeling a strange rumble beneath their two-toed feet.

Suddenly, the ground erupted beneath the Elite minors, tossing them both in opposite directions, downing their energy shields. Four Locust Drones emerge from the hole in the ground, followed in the back by a Theron Guard.

"Heresy!" the Zealot declared, as he began to fire his Plasma Repeater, singing the hardened hides of the Locusts. The Locusts return fire, their Hammerburst assault rifles tearing through the Elite Major's armor and spraying the Zealot with indigo-colored blood as it fell to the ground.

Elites: XXXX

Drones: XXXXX

The two Elite minors finally push themselves off the ground and fire their Plasma Rifles at the flanks of the Locusts, who in turn take cover behind a short wall of dirt made by their emergence hole.

The swapped fire continued, until a plasma grenade flew seemingly from nowhere into the hole, landing in the middle of the group of Locusts. One of the Drones grabbed the glowing blue orb and attempted to throw it back, but the grenade had adhered to its hand and subsequently exploded, killing the unfortunate Drone and leaving plasma scoring on the Grenadier Drone next to him, although not fatal.

Elites: XXXX

Drones: XXXX

The Theron Guard, after seeing that they had lost one of their soldiers to these intruders, ordered his whole squad to charge out of the hole. The Drones followed without question, running out of their cover towards the scattered Elites.

The Elite minors fired their plasma weaponry at the Drones, but were useless against the Drones as they were tackled to the ground and beat ruthlessly to death.

Elites: XX

Drones: XXXX

The third Drone charged the Elite Zealot, firing his Boomshot grenade launcher, causing the Elite's superior shields to flare. The Zealot ducked behind a wall of rubble, allowing his shields to recharge to full strength before returning fire, but then an energy sword materialized behind the assaulting Drone and stabbed it in the back, piercing its multiple organs.

Elites: XX

Drones: XXX

The Spec-Ops Elite deactivated his camouflage, standing behind the downed Drone when a projectile from the Theron Guard's Torque Bow impaled the Sangheili's exposed neck and subsequently exploded, gruesomely decapitating the warrior. The Zealot looked on as his blood brother fell, revealing the two remaining drones charging with bloodied meat cleavers.

Elites: X

Drones: XXX

The Elite Zealot pulled a beam rifle off of his back and fired, blowing the head off of the first Drone as it charged.

Elites: X

Drones: XX

The remaining Drone reached the Elite Zealot, hacking downward with his oversized butcher's knife. The Elite sidestepped the slash and thrust his gauntlet blade into an exposed portion on the back of the Drone, causing the subterranean combatant to fall. The Zealot stepped on the downed Drone's head, crushing the skull and spraying its red blood over the pavement.

Elites: X

Drones: X

The remaining Theron Guard threw his Torque Bow aside, withdrawing his Boltok revolver and retreated into the hole that he had emerged from. The Elite Zealot, in a bloodlust to kill the remaining Locust, grabbed his downed comrade's energy sword and followed into the dark abyss.

The Elite Zealot's shoulder mounted flashlight poorly illuminated the black cave, blue energy sword casting an eerie glow along the tunnel walls. Suddenly, an ear piercing shot whistled from further down in the cave and the Zealot quickly pulled up his energy sword as the projectile was disintegrated in the odd looking blade. The Zealot sprinted deeper into the cave until he found himself in a large cavernous room with multiple tunnels stretching in every direction.

The Zealot hesitated, giving the Theron Guard enough time to toss a bolo grenade from one of the blackened tunnels, rolling to a stop at the feet of the Elite. The grenade detonated, downing the shields of the warrior and sending him flying into an opposing cavern. The Theron Guard ran to the position of the Zealot, pointed his Boltok pistol at the Split-Jaw's face and pulled the trigger, caving in the crowned headdress of the Sangheili.

The Theron Guard raised his fist in the air and bellowed "For the Queen!"

Winner:

Locust


	10. Sub Zero vs Cervantes

Disclamer: I don't own Mortal Kombat nor Soul Calibur. If I did I wouldn't need to be studying for classes right now... but in case you are unfamiliar with the characters Sub Zero is a ninja from the game Mortal Kombat, fighting for the protection of Earth and for the glory of his clan, the Lin Kuei. Cervantes is a pirate from the series Soul Calibur and is consumed by the need to find the mythical sword Soul Edge, which had corrupted his soul long ago. I tried to take on the classic concept of a pirate versus a ninja, so I hope it worked out to your satisfaction Reader! So without further ado, please enjoy!

* * *

The stormy seas showed no mercy as Cervantes the pirate sailed ever northward upon his ship the Adrian, searching for his legendary sword, Soul Calibur. His very heart longed for the sword which had corrupted his soul long ago, but he knew he was not the only one on the quest for the sword. Cervantes became extremely paranoid as of late, looking up to the rigging of his ship to see the last scourge who had advised him to turn back, dangling by his feet, still screaming for mercy. The dread pirate grinned at his work above, as the rest of his crew continued working out of fear on and below the decks.

As Cervantes appreciated the fear he had instilled into his subordinates, a disembodied head fell at the pirate's feet, that of the pirate he had strung into the rigging.

"Who dares challenge me?" The undead pirate's gravelly voice called from the deck. "Show me your face coward!"

Almost immediately upon the request, a tundra cold froze the ship's deck in a light blue icy glow. A man in dark blue ninja garb emerged from behind the mast, his hands seemingly freezing the air around them.

"I am Sub Zero, and the Lin Kuei have come to stop you Captain." The ninja proclaimed, the ice forming around his right hand to create an icy sword. "I suggest you prepare for kombat Cervantes."

"You will loathe the day you faced the Dread Captain Cervantes!" The pirate captain howled, drawing his two swords, one with a visibly deadly pistol in place of its hilt.

"Your overconfidence will be your undoing," the Lin Kuei warrior retorted, throwing a ball of ice at Cervantes. The ball was deflected by the pirate's larger sword, but Sub Zero followed up the barrage with a quick blow to the knee, bending captain's knee sideways before thrusting his head into Cervantes' face, breaking his nose also.

Cervantes recoiled at the damage, but quickly recovered and swung his parrying sword to deflect Sub Zero's next assault, flipping the icy sword aside to give the dread pirate a clear shot to the ninja. He then stabbed his parrying sword into Sub Zero before firing its built-in gun into the gut of the Lin Kuei.

"Scream!" Cervantes laughed as he let the ninja off of the impaling sword to roll on the ground. Sub Zero held his bleeding side as he rose to his feet, only to see Cervantes bringing down his broadsword in an overhead swing.

The swords, however, met nothing but a cold icy statue as Sub Zero teleported away, leaving a now shattered ice clone in his wake. Cervantes looked around, a crazed look in his eye, as he tried to locate the teleported ninja, but to no avail.

"Find him! The cold one is mine…" Cervantes shouted at his crew as they began to scour the ship for the Lin Kuei warrior.

Sub Zero reappeared below decks, seemingly breaking out of ice in the darkness. With him were the rest of the Lin Kuei warriors, silently waiting below decks for their rallying call.

"The strike team awaits your orders, Grandmaster." A single Lin Kuei stepped forward robed in black and blue.

"Time to entertain our hosts," Sub Zero smirked, pointing his fellow ninjas upwards to storm the deck of the ship. The Lin Kuei charged upwards, screaming, encountering the searching pirates and instantly engaging in combat.

Steel clashed in the dark, flintlock pistols ignited the dark abyss of the ship's cargo hold, enough only to catch glimpses of cutlasses piercing ninja flesh, icy swords decapitating the mangy pirates. Sub Zero followed his fellow ninjas, calmly advancing in their wake, sprayed with blood of pirates and Lin Kuei alike.

"Are ye too cowardly to face a god such as myself?" Cervantes called out, firing a bullet into the skull of the nearest ninja, killing him instantly.

"God? I've fought gods before, and you have not half the power of Raiden." Sub Zero retorted, emerging from the bowels of the ship to freeze an advancing pirate into a solid block of ice.

"To Cervantes, you are nothing!" The dread pirate called screamed, charging at his opponent in a deadly aerial spin, swords held towards the ninja. Sub Zero did not have time to react as the swords drove into his abdomen, driving him backwards before the pirate withdrew his weapons.

Although body coursing with pain, Sub Zero pressed on his assault, kicking the pirate in the face before throwing a frozen ice ball at him, freezing Cervantes in an icy statue.

Seeing his opponent was subdued, Sub Zero threw an uppercut into the man's stomach, penetrating into his body and grabbing his entrails. Pulling the bloodied organ out, Sub Zero froze the blood trail into a giant ice spear before plunging the makeshift weapon into the eye socket of his opponent, breaking Cervantes free of his icy state but causing devastating damage to his body.

"You… rabble!" Cervantes cried out, recoiling and grabbing his bloodied face in pain.

"You are defeated," Sub Zero declared to his grounded opponent. "Now yield, lest you want me to freeze your very soul."

"You should be grateful that you will be part of my power…" Cervantes ominously replied, grabbing a nearby pirate before absorbing his ally's soul in a mist of green aura, restoring his health and replacing his lost eye in the process. The pirate stood, fully rejuvenated, tossing his fellow pirate aside with a maniacal laugh.

"Impossible…" Sub Zero stood in awe, summoning an icy hammer to combat his newly healed foe.

"I am immortal, can you say the same?" Cervantes shouted, before bringing a barrage of his swords onto his opponent. Sub Zero's agility showed, however, as he swerved his shoulders left and right, dodging all of his opponent's strikes with grace.

The Lin Kuei fell out of his dodging streak with a swift blow of his hammer to Cervantes' skull, knocking off the dread pirate's hat to reveal his silvery white wisps of hair. This did not stop Cervantes' strikes, however, as the pirate repeatedly swung his dual swords, yet still to no avail.

Sub Zero's and Cervantes' battle echoed across the deck of the ship as the Lin Kuei continued to fight the pirate crew, neither side gaining an advantage. Musket fire cracked like thunder, the decks ran slick with blood of fallen warriors of both sides, corpses slid off the deck into the tumultuous sea below. The darkened sky began to let loose its long stored rain, as a torrential downpour washed away the blood soaked wood of the Adrian.

"Now return your soul to me, my child," Cervantes demanded, holding out his hand to slowly absorb Sub Zero's soul.

"No! I have lost control of my soul before, never again." Sub Zero called out in defiance, throwing another ice ball at his opponent.

Cervantes pulled up his parrying sword, firing the pistol hilt at the oncoming ice ball, shattering it before it could make contact. Sub Zero did not let up on his assault, however, expulsing a misty aura to freeze the very raindrops falling around them.

"Not so fast," Cervantes yelled, seeing Sub Zero's plan being put into motion. "Your clan will tremble at the name of the dread Captain Cervantes!" He thrust his longsword in the direction of the ninja, but hit only an ice clone that Sub Zero had created in his wake of dodging. The impact froze Cervantes in place, chunks of ice covering the pirate from head to foot.

"The Lin Kuei know no fear, sorcerer," Sub Zero simply said, approaching the frozen pirate. Cervantes' eyes moved freely while he remained incased in ice, showing his true fear as the ninja reached his hand up, grabbing the buccaneer by the throat. Sub Zero summoned the frozen raindrops and sent them flying into Cervantes' neck, whittling away at the mighty pirate's flesh until it was but ice-covered bone. With a small grunt of effort, Sub Zero pulled upwards, tearing off the frozen head of the once great pirate, still attached to his spinal column in a gruesome tail.

Sub Zero held his opponent's disembodied head as a trophy as he looked around on the deck of the ship to see that all of his fellow Lin Kuei had fallen to the pirates, who slowly began to surround the supernatural ninja.

"Who's next?" Sub Zero murmured, summoning his icy sword once more before lunging at the nearest group of pirates. "None of you will escape with your lives…"

Winner:

Sub Zero


End file.
